


When I Climb the Stairs and Turn the Key

by ignemferam



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Community: sg_flyboys, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignemferam/pseuds/ignemferam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The clarity he didn't know he had been seeking, came to him at an unsuspecting moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Climb the Stairs and Turn the Key

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skieswideopen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skieswideopen/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** The characters are not mine, no matter how much I want them to be.
> 
> **Spoilers:** Post-series for both shows. Mentions of events in SGA 3.10 _The Return_ and SG-1 _The Ark of Truth_ in passing.
> 
> **Prompts:** _1\. Undercover on a mission; 2. In vino veritas (or truth serum or temporary telepathy or anything along those lines); 3. Home sweet home_
> 
> **Author's Notes:**  
>  \- Written for [skieswideopen](/users/skieswideopen) in [sg-flyboys](http://sg-flyboys.livejournal.com/)'s Thing-a-Thon.  
> \- Happy Birthday to [skieswideopen](/users/skieswideopen)!!!  
> \- I'm aiming for _#3_ with a slight dash of _#2_ and a little H/C thrown in. I hope I'm not missing the mark on this.  
>  \- A big shout out to [kristen999](/users/kristen999) and [imaginary_iby](/users/imaginary_iby) for sticking with me and helping to beta this fic. Any remaining error will be my own fault of keep changing things afterwards.  
> \- Title from the song _A House is not a Home_.

"I'm too old for this shit," Jackson muttered from his crouched position behind a nearby boulder.

Cam shot him an exasperated look while spears, arrows and darts continued to rain down on them. Because Jackson always said things like that - how he should do more research and fewer front line missions, but at the first mention of a Maya-like civilization, he jumped on-board immediately. All previous declarations conveniently forgotten. So, the chance of him ever feeling too old for field trips through the gate was slim to none.

"No way, Daniel," Vala yelled from the tree she was hiding behind on Cam's other side. "This is too much fun to give up!"

Shooting his own teammate would be bad, Cam told himself. Not that he would, but the thought certainly seemed a valid response at the moment, since said teammate was the reason the peaceful locals were now hunting them like boars. He sighed to himself and resigned to send Vala the troublemaker to Principal Carter's office, once they were safely beamed on-board _The Hammond_. Maybe Sam could actually convince Vala it was bad to salivate at the sight of the locals' ceremonial mask with its various decorative precious gems.

It should be any second now. Their distress sign had been sent roughly three minutes ago while they were fleeing the village in the opposite direction from the gate. It shouldn't take more than four minutes for _The Hammond_ to get in range to take them off the planet. He was still able to run but would rather not. Blood loss wasn't fun, no matter what Vala said.

Glaring at the red spreading down the back of Cam's pants, Vala mused, "You look like you're pooping blood, Cameron."

If Cam had kept the dagger that got him in the meaty part of his butt, he would throw it in Vala's general direction just out of spite. Though he was pretty certain she could duck it with a laugh.

. . . . . .

At least Jackson was considerate enough to bring him food.

It was very difficult to eat while lying on his stomach, Cam was reminded not for the first time. The only comforting thought was it being better than after he was beaten up by the Replicators - at least he could now eat without his whole face hurting. If he was at home, he could stuff a bunch of pillows under his upper body and lay the tray of food in front of him. But on a spaceship where there was only room for the bare essentials, all he had was a duffel stuffed with a couple of undershirts and a pair of sweatpants.

_"I understand you can manage the pain and go eat in the mess, Colonel. However, please follow the recovery instructions given to you. Dr. Lam was very clear in her guidelines to us regarding the care for any injured personnel."_

Even out here, thousands of light years away from SGC, Carolyn still had the medical staff under her influence.

Cam grumbled as he ate his soup. He simply wanted to go home and wallow a bit in private. But Sam, being the commander of this ship, disliked the idea of dropping them off at the nearest planet with a gate so they could head back to SGC sooner, because it might exacerbate his injury. Instead, he needed to suffer a five-day journey in hyperspace back to Earth, with absolutely nothing to do.

Home seemed so far away.

. . . . . .

His injury wasn't really serious - the dagger had not been poisoned, the wound was clean so chance of infection was low, and the cut wasn't deep enough to reach any bone or tendon. The only problem was the wound's location. Sitting or lying on his back wasn't recommended because any stretching of the wound would affect the healing, at least during the first week. Cam couldn't stand for a long period of time for the same reason. And anything more strenuous than slow pacing was out of the question.

Cam got antsy being cooped up, which wasn't exactly news to anybody. Unfortunately there wasn't anything he could to do to lift his boredom without incurring Carolyn's wrath. Since reading was better than idling, he started on the _War and Peace_ John jokingly gave him for his last birthday. On page ten, he decided John wasn't as funny as he believed himself to be.

By day two of his mandatory bed rest, Cam was almost at the edge of his sanity.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so petulant in refusing Vala's offer with the Gou'ald healing device.

He could already see Teal'c's raised eyebrow when he came back from visiting Rya'c.

. . . . . .

A loud clattering noise startled Cam from his nap, and it took him a second to orient himself. Oh, right. He was back in the privacy of his home, lying on top of the mountain of pillows. The noise sounded suspiciously like keys dropping on the coffee table, so he eased his hand out from under the mattress where his backup Kel Tec was hidden.

Checking the bedside clock, he discovered it was late afternoon and about time for Jackson to bring over dinner. He could call delivery, but a few minutes talking to Jackson was better than stewing by himself all day. Hell, he even debated calling Vala simply to hear somebody else talk.

Though sniffing the air, Cam couldn't smell the Thai Jackson had promised to bring over yesterday.

Before he could maneuver himself out of bed, Cam heard a snicker near the bedroom door. "You can tell me if you don't want to have sex. Getting stabbed in the ass seems extreme."

Tilting his head, he saw John leaning his lanky body against the doorjamb with both arms crossed, his hair unruly as if he had been out in the wind for too long. It made Cam smile. "I thought you were gating in next Monday."

"It _is_ Monday." With a shrug and a snort, John ambled over and took a seat on the bed by Cam's thigh. "Did you hit your head too?"

Five days in hyperspace seemed to have messed up the calendar Cam kept in his head. "Right. Miscounted the days."

"'S okay." John reached out, his hand hesitating in mid-air for half a second before awkwardly placing it on the small of Cam's back, avoiding eye contact. "Sam told me, um, about the injury after my debrief. I called Dave and canceled my trip."

"You shouldn't have." Two weeks of planned leave back at the mansion was supposed to be about the Sheppard family reconnecting. Cam didn't want that ruined because of him. "It's just a minor wound. There's no need to change your plan to see your brother and nieces."

Rubbing small circles with his hand, John continued avoiding direct eye contact with Cam. "Sam didn't elaborate about the injury. And I've already promised to take over the caretaker duties from Dr. Jackson when I got the details."

If it was anyone else, they might have mistaken John's nervousness as being anxious at spending an entire week with his brother's family. But Cam had enough practice in reading John Sheppard to know the difference. John chose caring for Cam over seeing the nieces he had come to adore. The discovery was a heady rush, even though John's less than stellar social skills had created an air of awkwardness.

Then Cam remembered something and a tiny smile creeped across his face uncontrollably.

"If Sam conducted your arrival debrief, she wouldn't have left out the severity of my injury. That means you found out I was injured and thought it was pretty serious. Enough to call Dave before you were fully vetted on all the details."

John fidgeted where he was sitting and his eyes traveled down Cam's legs turning away from his face even more. John's body language confirmed to Cam that he was on the right track. "Lemme guess, Vala got to you to get Jackson out of the meal runs. How am I doing so far?"

John mumbled something under his breath that sounded like a _yes_ , and Cam couldn't help but snort a little.

"Oh man, you got played! How you run an entire city is beyond me sometimes." Cam knew it wasn't fair, after all, John basically gave up his yearly leave Earth-side, out of concern for him. But teasing might be the best way to defuse the awkward mood from a moment ago.

John's eyes snapped up to meet Cam's face, affronted. "I'll have you know she's very sneaky. And cunning. Even Dr. Jackson gets fooled by her all the time."

"You keeping tell yourself that, Sheppard. Since Jackson's not coming, you need to go order me some dinner." Cam bumped his thigh against John's back to make his point. It would be okay, because when John came back from calling for delivery it would be like nothing had happened. "I want Thai."

Standing up, John stretched his arms above his head, causing his shirt to lift barely an inch above his waistline. Cam couldn't help but stare at the strip of exposed skin, remembering the shiver running through John the last time he traced it with his tongue.

"Slave driver. For your information, it's an hour to midnight Atlantis time so I should be sleeping and not playing butler," John complained, swinging an arm down and purposely swatting Cam's right ass cheek.

"Ouch!"

The way John's eyebrows flew up was nothing if not comical. "What? Sam said it's your left side that got stabbed."

Making a dramatic show of rubbing his own ass, Cam grinned. "It was. You're just too easy."

"Asshole!"

Cursing softly, John pinched the unhurt side of Cam's ass hard before turning to find the delivery menus.

. . . . . .

Contrary to popular belief, Cam wasn't really as All-American as others might think. Finding a nice beautiful woman to settle down and have a kid or twelve with wasn't exactly on his agenda. It'd be wonderful if it happened, but it obviously wasn't his life's goal. The secrecy and schedule of his work could be detrimental to any serious relationship. He loved his job and didn't plan on giving it up as long as he was fit for duty.

To put it bluntly, he was quite prepared to be the lonely old man in a nursing home who never married, and kept telling tall tales of his military days. It would be perfectly okay to him.

This _thing_ with John, Cam didn't need it. Whenever John was Earth-side, he stayed with Cam. Maybe it was the mutual understanding, or relief of not having to sanitize every spoken word. Or maybe they just fit. Whatever _it_ was, felt right.

If Cam was a restored antique muscle car, John would be the perfect coat of paint highlighting its incomparable existence. Even if all they did was watch football on TV at night, eat leftover pizzas in the morning, and having sex in between -- it would have been some of the best times Cam had in his adult life. The sex was good, okay, fantastic even.

But with them being together merely one week - at most two weeks - in a year, Cam might as well be celibate. His life would be undoubtedly normal and fulfilled even without it.

Except Cam wanted _this_.

There wasn't a better way to articulate his feelings except to say he wanted John in his life. This was possibly the one thing Cam wanted most outside of his career. Two old, retired Air Force pilots bickering, annoying the hell out of the nursing home staffs would be a fun way to spend his elderly years.

. . . . . .

Living with John was strange.

Before their current arrangement started, John had sulked around and stayed holed up in one of SGC's underground quarters, after gotten kicked out of Atlantis by _a bunch of ungrateful Ancients_. And Sam, being her ever softhearted self, pleaded with Cam to take John out for a couple of beers or maybe a football game or two.

Cheering up a fellow colleague somehow turned into trading blow jobs on the couch, hours of athletic sex in bed, and eventually John moving into Cam's spare bedroom.

Even then, they worked different schedules, rarely spent time in the apartment together that didn't involve screwing each other's brain out. Other than turning into fast friends who acted as if they had probably known each other for years, there wasn't any chance in those few weeks to discover what the other man was actually like to live with.

And now... there was this strangeness. With one of them on medical leave and the other Earth-side for two whole weeks. It was rather amazing that three days in, with John's slobby ways and Cam's need to have things tidy, they still hadn't killed each other.

Yet.

Mother-henning was one of the last things Cam expected from John. Cam thought the insistent checking of his wound would be charged with sexual tension, from the commanding tone in John's voice _ordering_ him to drop his pants. Not that they had approached that kink of Cam's yet. What Cam did receive was a complete clinical checkup - John's fingers barely glided across his skin. The most stimulation Cam received was from John's exhalation on the back of his thigh, spreading gooseflesh all over him. And as John helped pull up his sweatpants, it was all Cam could hope maybe next time.

However by the time John finished his fourth inspection of the stitches, all hopes of getting touched inappropriately were thrown out of the window. Cam had to wonder whether sexual frustration would be a valid defense if he was ever court-martialed for strangling a fellow officer.

Cam was bored out of his mind having absolutely _nothing_ to do. And John was right there in his casual shirt half unbuttoned, teasing Cam with glimpses of dark chest hair and generous display of tanned skin.

While they couldn't exactly label themselves as dating and most definitely had never spoken about being exclusive, Cam wasn't really a friends-with-benefits sort of guy. He was taught to be a gentleman and planned to put a name to this _thing_ they had. Except discussing a subject like this with John had to be treated with more care than handling a Mark IX with a twitchy trigger.

Yeah, Cam was hoping for a little recreational fun when he asked John to help wash his back where he couldn't quite reach. The contortion on John's face made Cam think it might as well be John who got stabbed in the butt. A man less secure would've taken John's comment that a couple of days not showering wouldn't make much of a difference as a passive aggressive complaint. Though Cam did check whether his own armpit stank... just in case.

Cam was only mortal to long for a little _more-than-friendly_ human contact, and it had been a year since they last were both in the same galaxy at the same time.

Eleven months, two weeks, three days and approximately six hours, if Cam wanted to be specific.

Cam was a little more than touch-starved and John handling him like he was made of porcelain certainly didn't help. Other than the little pinch on his ass cheek, John hadn't offered anything more than a hand to help Cam get out of bed.

So if Cam was scheming a little to get some attention, it was all done in the name of preserving his own sanity.

. . . . . .

There were more than enough beer stowed away in the kitchen cupboard as Cam believed he would need a lot to get through the next team night at his place. It was the only way he'd be able sit through a double feature of _Alien_ and _Aliens_ with Teal'c and Vala.

Sitting for a long time still hurt slightly, but at least Cam could lie on his back comfortably. John sat at one end of the couch with Cam's head resting on his thigh as they went through four hours of NFL on DVR, two large pizzas, and almost four six-packs of beer. For reasons unknown, John drank as much as three times Cam did. Nevertheless it was nice and relaxing, and the most intimate they had been in these past few days, so Cam didn't give it too much thought.

John shifted, obviously trying not to jolt Cam and Cam could hear his frustrated sigh. Their physical proximity was apparently getting to John and the beer probably helped in a way. Turning his head, Cam pressed his nose into John's crotch. As expected, a hand reached down somewhat clumsily onto Cam's forehead to stop his advance.

"Hey... What are you doing?" John questioned as if he had no idea.

Tilting his head to look up at John's downturned face, Cam smiled. "Saying thank you for taking care of me?"

John's swallow was clearly visible, and distinctly audible. "But... You still haven't completely healed."

That wasn't a no. Or more precisely, it was a weak objection. "I'll be lying on my front like I've been doing the past few days. Nothing moves below my waist. Scout's honor." Flashing John his most brilliant smile, Cam hoped he was persuasive enough. He wanted to be more than just a responsibility. "Just a blow job, Shep. It ain't gonna set the healing back and you get to just enjoy it."

John actually whimpered, his face flushing probably in memory at Cam's skills. "I just... Shouldn't we wait?" John continued to protest, but the slight widening of his legs told a different story.

The hesitating was actually endearing. Cam knew John only got overprotective regarding people he cared about, like his team.

"Don't need to," Cam said. "You can ravish me all you want in a few days - or I can do the ravishing. I like it either way. But you know we both want this. Besides, you've been injured enough times to know giving head won't affect my wound at this stage."

John seemed to consider Cam's offer for a moment before nodding slowly, an enthusiastic grin breaking out across his face. That was all Cam needed for permission. Flipping over carefully, Cam reached for the zipper to get to his prize, only to find John's already primed.

All systems go.

. . . . . .

With his hair more disheveled than usual, John slid further down the couch half sprawling at the end with his pants still hanging around his ankles. Idly he picked up his half empty beer and finished it in a long swig. The goofy grin on him spoke volumes at how much he had enjoyed Cam's mouth, despite his initial protest.

It was moments like this Cam craved - to have the satisfaction of providing pleasure to the person that mattered, the satiated smile on John was everything Cam needed. And wanted.

Softly, he whispered under the noise from the TV, "'M glad you're here."

John looked down and held the eye contact. "Me too. It's good to be home."

"Hey, Shep, you're back on Earth." And Cam chuckled. The alcohol combined with the sated exhaustion, maybe John thought he was back on Atlantis.

What Cam got was another smile before John leaned his head back with eyes closed. "I am. I have two homes."

Perhaps, it was easier than Cam had thought to put a name to this _thing_ they were doing. _Home_ seemed fitting.


End file.
